Lewis, without saying a word to Skelton, got on his pony and rode to Newington. Blair met him at the door, and for the first time he laid aside the freezing air he had always maintained towards the boy and was extremely cordial. Hilary was far from all right; the horse had rolled on him, and it would be some time yet before they could tell how badly hurt he was. Mrs. Blair felt better, but was a good deal shaken by the shock. Lewis was so overcome at this that Blair felt sorry for the boy, and said: “However, come in the house. Mrs. Blair would like to see you; and Hilary, too, if he is able.” Lewis walked into the house for the first time in his life, and sat down alone in the drawing-room. In a few moments Blair came to fetch him, and conducted him to Hilary’s room. Mrs. Blair sat by the bed on which Hilary lay, and as soon as Lewis entered she rose and went towards him with much sweetness of manner. Hilary, too, welcomed him feebly. Poor Lewis could hardly refrain from tears. He felt himself the author of more grief and pain to other people than anybody in the whole world. And he even envied Hilary, lying helplessly in the bed. His mother watched him fondly; his father sat by him--and it was always a pretty sight to see Blair with his children; while little Mary promised Hilary that, if he should be a cripple for life, she would abandon all ideas of matrimony and devote her life to him. The little girl, who was uncommonly pretty, was disposed to regard Lewis as an enemy, but was finally coaxed into magnanimity, and even condescended to sit on his knee. When Lewis rose to go, Mrs. Blair accompanied him to the door. He made her a thousand earnest apologies, to which Mrs. Blair replied generously. Even Blair himself was kind to the boy, who left them with an overflowing heart. Hilary had asked him to come again, and both Mr. and Mrs. Blair had repeated the invitation. Skelton, sitting at Deerchase in the library, was triumphant, but far from happy. Towards noon he missed Lewis, and happening across Bulstrode in the stone porch, he inquired for the boy. “Don’t know,” answered Bulstrode, adding, with a grin: “He asked me about going to Newington. I told him I had no objection, and advised him to ask you--and by the Lord Harry! I shouldn’t be surprised if he had gone.” A very little inquiry showed that Newington was precisely where Lewis had gone. Bulstrode was secretly much amused. “Birds of a feather--Skelton and Lewis. The boy is giving him a dose of his own medicine.” All Skelton said was to direct the servants immediately upon Lewis’s arrival to let him know. When Lewis appeared he was met by Bob Skinny, who directed him mysteriously to “de libery. An’ Mr. Skelton, he f’yarly sizzlin’, he so mad.” Lewis walked into the library quite coolly. Skelton wheeled around and said, in a voice very unlike his usual almost caressing tone: “Have you been to Newington, Lewis?” “Yes, sir,” answered Lewis calmly.